Seven Stories

I missed last week because it was the last day of the summer holidays and I took my son to Seven Stories, the children’s book museum in Newcastle http://www.sevenstories.org.uk/.

So here are seven stories to make up for missing a week. They bear no resemblance to the real Seven Stories apart from the drawn boat, but I did try to use plots of the seven universal stories identified by Christopher Booker https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Seven_Basic_Plots

Seven Stories

The Cellar

You walk down the stairs unworried into the dark.

Then you hear it…the scrabbling and the soft groans. You smell the fear, taste the tang of anticipation waiting for you. You feel terror but see nothing.

One step into the room.

The scurrying gets louder, you taste the waiting creatures waiting, waiting ready to pounce. You see only black. Then you tense your eyes shut and lunge for the switch.

A blaze of white.

Scuttling stops, you sense nothing. You open your eyes and see nothing. The light scours the fearful, fearsome things away and you are safe.

………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Ground Floor

Once upon a time she went to work on the ground floor. She opened the door and stood in the light of the sun shining through the window. She saw the room full of people busily working. She went to the corner and put the kettle on.

‘Make us a coffee, Jen,’ said her boss smiling at her.

‘If you’ll take me for a stronger drink after work,’ she replied.

It was her story and she knew she could make it happy ever after.

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First Floor

Deep in the middle of the first floor there was hidden a magic wand. The one that found it would have riches beyond their wildest dreams and happiness beyond measure. The bold man entered the dread room determined to take the wand for his own. He battled the dark guardian and bamboozled the wise witch. He cut the thorns with his shining sword until he reached the very place he sought.

He stood for a moment looking at the wand in its crystal case. A movement behind him made him turn, brandishing his sword. The wolf’s head fell to the floor followed by its bloodied body. The man reached for his wand.

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Second Floor

Ugh, I really could do without this. Sunday dinner with the family. I hate sprouts and mum always makes them. Billy is a pest, dad is boring, and gran smells of wee. Still it could be worse I suppose, I only have to do it once a week. Imagine if it was every day.

Over cooked joint and undercooked potatoes. Huh. Billy goes on and on about my girlfriend all through the meal. Mum smirks, dad and gran tease and giggle. I want to stab them all with my fork.

Then it happens. I don’t know why but gran starts choking. Dad pats her back and mum shouts useless advice. Then her lips go blue. She struggles to stand up. I get behind her bring my arms round her and heave up under her ribs. She coughs up and breathes again.

I feel odd. I sit down and watch the others cluster round gran. She’s OK now and smiles at me. I pat her hand and smile back. While I wash up I think about it all. I saved her life. What if she’d choked to death?

The afternoon is just like normal. Monopoly and rubbish TV. But I’m not the same. I see it all differently. They won’t always be here. Or maybe I won’t. Who knows? Best make the most of it as mum always says and I always sigh.

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Third Floor

I silently thank my godmother as I walk into the third floor ballroom. She gave me this stunning dress. I threw my old jeans down gladly, they were worn out to tatters. And these shoes! So sleek, so shiny, like polished glass. I sashay into the roomful of dancing chatting people with my head held high. This might be my only chance to do this. A party, and I’m the best dressed and the most sparkling.

I meet his eyes across the room. Yes, yes, cliché alert but that’s how it happens, for real. His eyes are almost as black as his hair and I swim through them, lost. I’m just standing there looking like a lemon watching him. He comes up to me and holds my hand. I’m still staring, but it doesn’t matter because he’s staring back. He touches my cheek with his lips and I know. He’s the one.

We danced all night and talked. I’ve never talked like that with anyone. Then I have to go. I meant to give him my number but it was too late. My godmother would turn my dress back to ragged jeans if I didn’t leave. One of the shoes drops off as I run out of the room but I have to leave. We’ll find each other again, I know.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Fourth Floor

A beautifully drawn boat is bobbing on the painted sea by the door. She climbs aboard and sets sail for adventure. Across the room she sails, through strange, bright-coloured lands filled with flat, but loud creatures. Talking birds are drawn overhead and annoying rabbits chew carrots and cause trouble.

She escapes the sea-monster. A superhero flies up and bubbles saying ‘ker-pow!’ ‘Crack!’ and ‘Blam!’ appear above the creature. She is whisked out of danger and back onto the boat. Meddling kids solve mysteries for her and unmask villains. Yellow skinned people make her giggle so hard she nearly crashes the boat into a nuclear power plant.

A cat and mouse die over and over, teeth shatter and tails blow up. She pilots her boat safely round the room and lands by the door once more. She ties the boat up, draws a doorhandle onto the door and leaves.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Attic

I can do this. I fling open the door and look for him. I know he’s considered to be the hero but I will rule. I will have no time for his wishy washy nonsense. I have the laser gun and my knives. The witches run, screaming my name. I kill them and walk on to the hero. I tie him up and tell him my plans. I will run this place properly. My enemies will quake and I will be given everything I deserve.

I kill his snivelling little friend and laugh at his tears. I point the gun at him. He tries, oh how he tries. He appeals to my non-existent better nature. He feels sorry for me and my tragic childhood. He tells me I can kill him but will never get the better of his order. Then he begs.

I pull the trigger but there’s a blinding flash from his eyes. It hits the gun, it hits me. I burn, I burn, I burn…

Dark and Stormy Night

I really did write most of this in a storm with a sick dog (she’s fine now). I waited for a less scary night to finish it though…I wish I’d done it in the daylight- never locked up so quickly!

Dark and Stormy Night

It’s a dark and stormy night…yeah, yeah, I know, but it literally is dark and stormy. I’m here on my own with a sick dog. You’d think mum and dad would stay downstairs too wouldn’t you? But no.

‘Hey Kez, you’ll be up anyway, keep an eye on Bess for us will you?’ Mum said over her shoulder on her way upstairs. Not giving me the chance to answer. Why do old people go to bed so early by the way? It’s not even midnight yet.

‘Woah!’

Sorry, that thunder is close. The rain‘s blasting, it sounds even louder with the door open ready for the puking dog to dash out. Who leaves their kid with the door open on a spooky night? We do live on a housing estate, not one of those horror houses out in the sticks at least, so no one will be lurking out there, I guess. I hope.

Ugh sorry, had to rush the dog out. She’s been sick all evening. Thanks to the parents throwing balls for her all afternoon in the sea. All she throws up is sand and water, poor baby. We’ve got such great parents.

I thought I saw a figure in the lightning while I watched Bess crouch over on the grass. I know, yeah, it was a bush. It must’ve been. Who would be out in that rain? They’d have to be mad…maybe I shouldn’t have thought that…a mad person in a storm in my garden. Surely Bess would bark, even though she’s ill? Oh, she wants to go out again. Be right back.

I didn’t go up to the door while she was out that time. Bess was quick but I hustled her back in and slammed the door shut as soon as I could. I heard footsteps. I’m sure. No, it must have been raindrops down the chimney. Yeah, that’s it, rain. That scrape on the window was a branch for sure. Then just rain, thunder and snoring…yep dad was asleep. And to think they moan at me for sleeping in.

‘You’re such a lay-a-bed.’

Right, there’s no way I could sleep through this racket like them. It’s like a bloody battle or something. No one would be out in this, would they? Why would they?

God, this film’s scary. I wish I’d put something else on. I might go to bed. Surely Bess’ll be all right now? Ugh the satellite signal’s gone now. Yeah, I’ll go read in bed for a bit. I’ll just chuck Bess in the garden once for luck first.

‘Come on girl, out you go. Go on Bess, out.’ This storm must be stuck here. It’s been overhead for so long. The lightning is like strobes. No wonder poor Bess wasn’t keen to go out. Mind you she’s taking her time. I thought the poor thing was over it now.

‘Bess, Bess! Come on.’ Where is she? I’ll have to go and get her in a minute. I need a wee.

Can’t see a thing, and the rain’s soaking me already. Where the hell has she gone? What’s that? Hang on I’ll look at it inside. Bluergh, I’m so wet. Let’s see…it’s Bess’s collar. How did that get there? She can’t get it off herself. It looks cut. And is that blood? No way, must be rain, everything looks weird in this odd light. I’ll go get a torch and bring her in.

She must have found a cat. Though what self-respecting cat would be out in this I don’t know. OK, better go find her. If only I could stop shivering. It’s turned really cold now the storm’s here. There’s nothing to be scared of. Mum and dad are just upstairs and no one is out there.

Deep breath and go.

I can hear growling. Serious growling, deep and vibrating. There’s Bess, right at the end of the garden. What’s she growling fo…Oh my god…there’s a man with a knife!

I see them the same time the man lifts the knife up. He plunges forward at Bess. She runs. The lightning strikes. Hits the man’s knife. Sparks through him. A bang. He’s lying on the floor and Bess is in my arms. I’m screaming, and screaming. It all happened at once.

Mum and dad finally wake up and drag me and Bess inside. Dad slams the door and mum calls the police. I slump on the sofa. They stand looking at me in shock. None of us say a thing. Then Bess staggers over to dad and throws up a stream of sandy water on his bare feet.

Those Summer Nights

This weeks story is inspired by summer, and the lack of it in this grey cold country!

Those Summer Nights

Mum made me watch Grease in preparation for our summer holiday because, of course, it was so relevant to a caravan holiday in Rhyl wasn’t it? Yeah, you guessed the answer; no it wasn’t. Oddly enough there were no swishy skirts, slick leathers and fast cars in Rhyl. No dancing and mass sing-a-longs in the caravan site. No dream girls and cool boys.

Tell me more.

We sat on the sea wall with our greasy packets of fish and chips looking at the concrete coloured sea. There was sand in my chips and the sound of screaming kids in my ears. Mum lit a fag and Sherry, my little sister, took off her sandals to go for a paddle.

‘Watch out for glass, and jellyfish.’ Mum told her. She ignored Mum, ran into the sea, screamed at the cold and ran straight back again. I wiped the ketchup off my face and walked off.

‘Oy Jay, take the rubbish with you love.’ Mum called. I turned and collected the scrumpled papers, took them to the nearest bin then walked away kicking a stone along with me.

Tell me more.

I ended up on the caravan site swings. I scuffed the earth with my feet and sighed. I’d have been better off at home, at least I had some friends there. So much for friendly girls, carefully made up and singing all the time. I smirked as my eye caught sight of a girl coming towards the play park. She was wearing a tiger-striped onesie with the hood tight round greasy looking hair. She was cramming a burger into her mouth.

‘What’re you grinning at?’ she asked showing me more of her half eaten burger than I ever wanted to see.

‘Nothing.’

‘Boring here isn’t it?’

‘You said it.’ I swung higher, wishing the week was over.

‘Want to come for a walk?’

‘Not really, where is there to go?’

‘Nowhere, but it’s better than hanging round the swings like a kid.’

‘OK.’

Tell me more.

All right so Kelly was as far from the girls in Grease as possible. She was even further from being my dream girl. But we had a laugh. We skimmed stones into the sea while the sun turned the water a dull orange colour. She pushed me into the waves then ran off, laughing, up the sand. I chased her until we had to sit on the sand to get our breath back. We talked about stuff. You know; friends, school, TV and funny cats on the internet. The usual stuff but funnier. It was like having one of my mates here.

Well, it was like having a friend here until we kissed. I wiped some sand off her cheek and we moved closer. I felt her eyes as hot as her breath then we touched. OK, we hit noses and couldn’t find each other’s mouths at first. But then we did. I stroked her tiger-striped hood then grinned at her. We looked at each other, then she said

‘What toothpaste do you use? I like it.’

I looked at her speechless for a moment. Then we both laughed. We laughed so hard we actually cried. I actually began to worry that ‘pissing yourself laughing’ wasn’t just a phrase.

Tell me more.

I’d spent the day with Mum and Sherry. Kelly had been out with her family, she’d told me to meet her by the sea wall in the evening.

‘Don’t be too late Jay, we’ve got a long day in Llandudno tomorrow.’ Mum said as I went out.

‘Yeah, must be at my best for that.’

‘Oh go on then, you sarcastic sod.’

‘Love you too Mummy darling.’

Kelly still didn’t look like my dream girl but at least she had jeans and a T shirt on this time. Not that I cared what she looked like by the end of the evening. She was fun and I could really talk to her, better even than my mates. She leaned against me when we sat on the sand and any thoughts of my mates disappeared with her kisses.

‘Sensodyne.’ I told her afterwards.

‘You what?’

‘My toothpaste, you know, the one you like.’ she threw a bunch of dried seaweed at me. I ran away pretending to scream. She chased, I caught her and dragged her to the sea edge threatening to throw her in.

‘Oh no you don’t.’ she said and kissed me again.

Tell me more.

Yeah, you guessed it. That’s where it ends. She went home, I had to stay three more days. OK we texted, we stayed in touch. You know; cheesy selfies, having a laugh. But there was no happy ending, she wouldn’t turn up at my school, we wouldn’t see each other again. The only thing that had changed was my dream girl, she was a bit different now; less swish clothes, less good looks and more messing about and good laughs. All I had left were dreams and those summer nights.